


Another Word for Love

by icandrawamoth



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Cassian Andor-centric, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Cassian Andor, I Made Myself Cry, Implied/Referenced Character Death, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 10:06:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12408327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: “She's not coming home.”“No. I'm sorry, Cassian.”





	Another Word for Love

Mon doesn't want to do this. She's had all day to steel herself, but when the door to her office swings open, she still doesn't feel ready.

“Captain Andor, come in.”

He positions himself in front of her desk, snapping off a smart salute. “What's this about, Chancellor? If I may ask, if there's a mission for me, why am I reporting directly to you instead of General Draven?”

There'll be no delaying it then, not that that's what she wants. “It's not a mission. Captain... Cassian. Please sit.” She gestures to the chair opposite her.

Andor's gaze sharpens. “I think I'd rather stand, ma'am.” He clasps his hands behind his back, military at ease pose, but he can't hide the frisson of unease on his face.

“Very well.” She rests her hands on her desk: everything in the open. “It's about Jyn.”

He sits abruptly, and that more than anything tears at Mon's heart. Andor's been with the Rebellion long enough to know how this goes; he knows her next words.

“She's not coming home.”

“No. I'm sorry, Cassian.”

She watches him break. Not like so many others - she's seen tears, listened to angry outbursts, watched loved ones go numb with pain, but for Cassian Andor, grief just adds another layer to the veneer of sadness and exhaustion he's carried ever since she's known him.

It's not fair. The Rebellion has already taken so much from him. He puts his life on the line for them without question, mission after mission, he's lost so much, and still all the galaxy does is take. Mon had been pleased when he'd taken up with Jyn Erso; they had made each other so happy. And now he's lost that as well.

Andor makes no verbal show of his pain, merely closes his eyes for a long moment before opening them again, meeting hers with an expression that breaks her heart. She sees silent agony in the face of an utterly selfless man.

“What happened?” he asks, and his voice is steady.

Mon hides her hands in her lap, clenches them. “She was returning from her reconnaissance mission on Eriadu. She had just taken off when her ship was shot down.”

“I'm going to Eriadu, then.”

“There's no use.” Mon makes her voice gentle. “We've seen footage of the event: the ship was completely destroyed, Cassian.”

“Stop calling me that.”

Even the bare hint of bite in his voice is better than that empty steadiness. He thinks she's patronizing him, and though that's anything but her intent, she respects his wishes.

“Captain, there's nothing you can do for her now.”

“There will be a recovery mission,” Andor says flatly. “Whatever information she was sent after had to have been important. You'll need to be absolutely certain whether any of it survived or not. I want to be on that team.”

Anyone else she would tell no, but Andor is different. He's a consummate professional: he won't let his personal feeling get that way of what he's truthfully stated is an important operation. How many times before has he survived and accomplished a goal under impossible pressure? He probably sees it as his duty to finish the mission the woman he loved died for. Mon knows he'll continue their work after this, their fight: it's all he has left now. She wonders, painfully, how long it will be before the Rebellion loses him, too.

She nods. “I'll see to it that you are.”

“Thank you.” He stands, and it's amazing how he can look so crushed and so steady at the same time. “If there's nothing else, ma'am?”

“No. But, Captain-” She swallows the usual platitudes that jump to her lips: that Jyn was brave and valued and died for a worthwhile cause that she believed in. Cassian doesn't need to hear them. He already knows, and it's not like they'll ease his grief. Instead, Mon says softly, “I truly am sorry for your loss.”

He nods once, sharply, and turns to go. Just before he leaves her view, she sees his shoulders start to shake.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from a quote: _I've learned that grief is another word for love._


End file.
